Nine African American columnists visit
Cuba:
February, 2000

From press release: "Nine African-American newspaper columnists, from major
newspapers around the country, will be visiting Cuba from Feb. 1-7, 2000. Our particular
areas of interest include the status of Afro-Cubans compared to that of white Cubans,
their relationship with the Castro government, the issues currently facing this group of
people, and the impact of the so-called "special period" (following the fall of
the Soviet Union) on Afro-Cubans." The group was led by USA Today's Dwayne
Wickham.

AfroCubaWeb has obtained links to many of the columns these folks have written and
we're on the lookout for others. Thanks to Ottis Cunningham and Lisa Brock for
locating so many!

Eight-year-old Patricia reminds me of my little girl. She is cocoa brown, with a smile
that seems to stretch from ear to ear. She loves butterscotch candy, popcorn and
snuggling. Patricia doesn't have many toys or clothes. The day I met this
charming little girl, her tights were well worn with holes and her dress was a little too
short. She has no Barbie dolls. (I've lost count of the number of Barbies my daughter
has.)

I met Patricia and her mother, Alicia, last month while visiting Cuba under the auspices
of an organization of black columnists. We wanted to see for ourselves, among other
things, how bad things might be for 6-year-old Elian Gonzalez if he were sent home to his
father and communist Cuba.

The Florida relatives who have custody of the boy say Cuba is no place for a child. They
want Elian, who was found clinging to an inner tube in the Atlantic last November, to stay
in America, where he can enjoy the riches of freedom.

When I think about this controversy over Elian, I now think of the face of Patricia and
all the other Cuban children I met or saw while in Havana.

What I see are sweet-faced children--and intangibles that transcend all foolish
materialistic arguments about who's better off where.

I could see no reason why Patricia would be happier anywhere else than with her mother,
even though her mommy doesn't have many "worldly" possessions.

It is true that the family's television is '50s vintage. They don't have a car or a
telephone. Their single-family cement house is so tiny, their living room doubles as a
dining room. Mother and child share a bedroom and a bed.

In Cuba there are no shelves full of Barbie dolls. There is no Disney World. The closest I
saw to an amusement park was the antiquated merry-go-round in Havana's Parque Central.

Instead of aerodynamic skateboards or sparkling Rollerblades, many Cuban children are
forced to fashion their own toys. I watched as three young boys darted around traffic on
makeshift scooters made out of old crates. Just down the street, other boys were playing
drums on empty cardboard boxes.

I asked Alicia about the accusations that many Cuban children are unhappy and hungry.

"We have problems, like people in any other country," said Alicia, who because
of all the controversy surrounding the Gonzalez case asked that her last name not be used.
"Maybe we don't have so much food like you in America, but Cuban people in general
are not going hungry."

I spent two days visiting Alicia and several of her family members, many of whom earn $15
to $20 a month. I just can't imagine. I can spend that much money in one trip to a
fast-food restaurant.

Now, I'm not naive about Cuba. Riding and walking around Havana, with its dilapidated
apartment buildings and treacherously pothole-riddled streets, it would be easy to pity
the people.

But I'm not naive about poverty either. I've been there.

And I can tell you that it is just as wrong to equate deprivation with misery as it is to
equate prosperity with contentment.

So many of us in America live what Cubans would consider very prosperous lives.

Yet we worry that we don't have enough while our homes are filled with gadgets and things
paid for with money we don't have.

We shower our children with so much stuff that there is always a perpetual layer of toys
in their pricey toy bins that they never play with again.

Here in the United States, so many parents, including myself, stress about providing
enough for our children.

Alicia says she doesn't worry about the stuff she can't get her child.

"We don't live as well as you, of course, but we are okay," she said in her
halting English. "We can go to university for free. We have free health care. My
daughter can study the piano for free. It is not difficult to find little children in Cuba
singing or dancing. My Patricia loves to sing and dance."

What makes a child happy?

As I watched Patricia and her 2-year-old cousin, Anna, hug, kiss and tickle each other,
with not a single toy in sight, that question wasn't so hard to answer.